


For As Long As Time Permits

by justanothervisitor



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: BDSM, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Clexa, Erotica, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Light BDSM, Oneshot, Polis, Rope Bondage, Sex, The 100 (TV) Season 3, The 100 - Freeform, The 100 Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22116802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothervisitor/pseuds/justanothervisitor
Summary: Lexa and Clarke after the swearing fealty scene. Erotica. Light BDSM themes. Oneshot
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 6
Kudos: 100





	For As Long As Time Permits

Love isn’t always weakness.

Lexa kom Trikru, Commander of the Twelve Clans, knew that she had betrayed Clarke when she called her troops away from Mount Weather. She justified it by saying that her people had to come first, under any and all circumstances, and that was true—but there was another reason. 

When Lexa kissed Clarke, she had thought some perfect force would wrap around them. Unify them. But Clarke had stumbled backward and said she wasn’t ready to be with anyone— _not yet_ , she had added. Lexa understood;Finn, the boy Clarke had kissed while she stabbed him through the heart—she killed him to spare him from Death by a Thousand Cuts—still had a hold on her. 

Still. _Not yet_ was just a gentle way to say _no_ , and Lexa’s pride was wounded. Her fear, disappointment, and embarrassed vulnerability painted over what she thought was love. Clarke _had_ kissed her back—but Lexa was Commander of the Twelve Clans, she was _the_ authority, and anyone would have kissed her back in fear of otherwise meeting their death. Lexa felt foolish for acting on such a pathetic impulse. She felt ashamed for misreading the situation and upset at having put Clarke in such a compromising situation. 

She felt weak. 

Nevertheless, Lexa pulled a neat curtain in front of her emotions and carried on as normal, just like she was trained to do. Her face was unreadable, her body was well-composed. She stood by Clarke’s side as they made war plans and talked confidently about their alliance, and she marched beside the Skygirl when they led the army to the Mountain’s door. She fully intended to fight alongside Clarke and rescue all their people. She _meant_ to keep her word.

But their plan went astray. The door didn’t open.

Lexa was offered a deal. 

And in that single, chaotic, desperate moment, she took it. 

Thousands of lives in exchange for a few dozen. Her thousand for Clarke's dozen. It was a decision that Lexa was sure Clarke would have made herself, if the tables were turned. It was a smart decision — ruthless, but wise. Intelligence required ruthlessness at times like these. 

So Lexa abandoned Clarke and all the complicated feelings that the girl stirred up. There was a subtext: _you had a chance to be my people and you turned me down, and my people are all that I care about._

It was no wonder, really, that Clarke spat in her face when they were finally reunited. _‘You bitch!’_ Clarke had screamed, her hair ragged with dirt and half in dreads, and her clothes practically rotting off of her. She had stared at Lexa with a simmering darkness, and something about that darkness sent a rush of excitement down Lexa’s spine.

But then Clarke lunged at her, which led to her being dragged out of the Throne Room, struggling against her escorts and repeatedly screaming ‘ _I’ll kill you!’_

Lexa gave Clarke one of the best rooms in the tower and had delicious, expensive meals delivered there. After a week of giving her space, Lexa approached the woman—who was also called _Wanheda_ now, the Commander of Death— and amiably asked for her people to become the Thirteenth Clan. Clarke had responded by pinning Lexa against the wall with a knife to her throat, then staring at her until they both broke down and went soft. Lexa couldn’t forget the look in her eyes. Fire, at first, then water. Rage, then defeat, then adoration. Clarke accepted the offer.

The ceremony was beautiful until the Ice Nation interrupted—with nothing less than _blowing up Mount Weather_ —and sent everyone scattering. Accusations were thrown around and anger surged. But one good thing happened. Clarke stayed. Her people had urged her to go with them, they had pleaded—but Clarke insisted on staying. She _wanted_ to stay.

*

They were in the throne room now, with Titus and the guards waiting just outside and everyone else having gone their own way. The fire burned low on one wall, almost to embers, and dozens of candles were arranged, half-melted, on ridges along the walls.

“If you betray me again...” Clarke warned.

“I won’t,” Lexa promised, and she meant it. She got down on her knees and placed her palms on her thighs, staring up at Clarke in starry-eyed, apologetic reverence. Clarke looked shocked and shifted her weight uncomfortably. Lexa was not the sort to kneel to anyone, after all. But Clarke wasn’t just _anyone_. “I swear fealty to you, Clarke kom Skaikru. I vow to treat your needs as my own and your people as my people.”

A moment passed as the words sank into the space between them, and with the throne behind her and the candlelight on her face, Clarke looked especially regal. Her blonde hair had been brushed free of all but a few of its dreads, and she wore a clean, sharp tunic, form-fitting bottoms, and leather boots. 

Clarke offered Lexa a hand and helped her up. 

They didn’t say anything, but their eyes stayed met and a wave of heat passed between them. Fealty was no small thing to swear. Clarke’s fingers kept a light hold on Lexa’s own, and slowly, ever-so-slowly, the Skygirl’s thumb crossed its way over her knuckles. Affection. The unifying force. Their weeks-ago kiss wasn’t clear enough in its message, but swearing fealty was. _Be my people,_ it said _._ The force drew them into each other now, blooming from where their fingers touched and winding up through their veins.

“Clarke...” Lexa swallowed.

“Lexa.”

Their eyes searched each other until Clarke’s flicked down to Lexa’s mouth and back up again. Lexa, despite herself, mirrored the movement. And then Clarke was stepping closer, a current of heat and desire, and their fingers wove together. Locked. With her other hand, Clarke reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind the Commander’s ear. They moved together hesitantly, slowly. They had done this before, but this time it felt different, it felt new. Their lips met.

The kiss was a gentle one. It lingered and broke softly, then paused so they could look again into each other’s eyes. This time, there was no _‘not yet’_. Just harmony. Surrender. They could ignore their connection no more. 

Clarke took Lexa’s face in her hands and kissed her with a mounting intensity. Like a dam breaking open and freeing a flood, the passion washed over them in an enormous, unstoppable current. The unifying force made it to their hearts, where it was pumped into their blood and nourished every cell, and had them embracing each other in a desperate, clinging way. The smell of torch-smoke and pine filled up Lexa’s lungs, and a smell that was unique to Clarke alone. Something sweet and comforting and terribly alluring. 

“You were always meant to be my people,” Lexa told her. She tightened their embrace and kissed Clarke hard, and their breathing got heavy and low. “I’m sorry I ever treated you otherwise.”

“The dead are gone, Lexa,” said Clarke.

It was the same phrase Lexa had said to Clarke just before they lit Finn’s funeral pyre, and hearing it repeated now offered a kind of solace. Leave the past in the past. They had both committed sins.

“The living are hungry,” Lexa finished. 

Clarke nodded. “ _Desperately_ hungry.” 

A darkness tugged both their mouths upward. 

Walking Clarke backwards, carefully, up the dais and to throne, Lexa shrugged off the heavy cloak she’d been wearing and pushed her companion into the seat. Clarke was already flushed, holding lightly onto Lexa’s belt and gazing at her with a silent, taunting question. _Are we going to do this?_ Moonlight streamed in from the window behind her, silhouetting the tangled, polished antlers that decorated the throne and casting a faint blue that blended with the amber of the candle fire. Lexa wanted to tell Clarke that she was stunning, that she had never seen anyone so completely enthralling, but it seemed like a foolish thing to say. 

“Are you...?” Clarke began, the beginning of doubt stirring in her features. 

Lexa leaned back in and silenced her with a kiss.

Clarke’s hands left the belt and traveled under Lexa’s shirt, ghosting up her sides and luring her ever-closer. Lexa brought her knees up on each side of the chair, straddling her companion and forcing her against the backboard, then took each of Clarke’s wandering hands and pinned them, by the wrists, above her head. 

“Is this okay, Clarke?” 

“Yes. Is it okay with you?”

“Yes.”

Lexa tightened her hands around Clarke’s wrists and found her way from mouth to neck, where she kissed the hot skin in a trail from ear to collarbone. Transferring both of Clarke’s wrists into one hand, Lexa used the other to find purchase in that rough, blonde hair. She pulled to better expose the neck, then teased there with a still, close breath. 

“What about this?” whispered Lexa, then she bit down and rolled the flesh softly between her teeth. 

“Mhmm...” 

Another bite, harder this time, earnedher a desirous moan. _Mine_ , Lexa thought. _Only mine_. An instinct surged through her and she had to keep from marking Clarke, from claiming her, from making it clear to anyone who saw them that Clarke was claimed, owned, _hers_. 

“Titus...?” Clarke murmured, naming Lexa’s mentor, bringing attention to the fact that he stood right outside the door. They both knew he disapproved of their...closeness. This kissing and touching would send him in a rage.

“He cannot stop this,” Lexa said. 

“He’ll try...”

“Let him. _I_ am the Commander.”

The two carried on kissing, and Clarke pulled her arms free to tug off Lexa’s top and binding cloth. She kissed Lexa’s throat, her heart, and then each of her breasts. Lexa clumsily stripped her in turn. The room was chilly and it urged them even closer, freshly-exposed skin against freshly-exposed skin. Lexa wrapped her legs around Clarke’s back so they could get close as possible.

They kissed and bit and touched and teased, and after several minutes, Clarke stood up and lifted Lexa with her. 

Being held like that gave Lexa’s heart a wild rush. She felt fragile, feminine, small—and surprisingly, she liked it. It felt good to give up control for a moment, if only because she knew she would have it back again.

Clarke turned and sat Lexa on the throne, then tugged off Lexa’s belt and went to work on her buttons. Lexa’s hands wandered up Clarke’s chest, curved around her breasts, and passed lightly across her nipples. The Skygirl gave a devilish grin and slid away, crouching at Lexa’s feet and undoing the buckles on her boots.

In a moment, Lexa was completely naked and Clarke was kissing up her thigh. 

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Lexa teased.

“Instinct,” Clark said with a sly grin. She continued with her trail of kisses, going slower the higher she got, and Lexa’s heart beat faster and faster. Lexa hadn’t been intimate much—she had no time for sex and romance—and she was certainly out of her element. Combat, swordplay, daggerplay, commanding— _that_ was her element. Her life had always revolved around being Commander, and vulnerability was not meant for Commanders. 

Clarke placed a kiss on the soft, hot flesh where thigh met hips, creeping higher and higher, until—

Lexa gasped.

The cold of Clarke’s tongue drew a line to open Lexa to her, then pulled up the wet and tasted it. Lexa shut her eyes and leaned her head back, and her hands tangled themselves in Clarke’s hair.If someone were to walk in on them now—! 

The thought stirred Lexa’s lust, and she moaned a note louder than she meant to. The throne room was large and all of stone, silent but for the crackling fire. Their breaths and moans seemed to echo and intensify in that empty silence, and Lexa was sure that her guards and Titus would hear if this went on.

Tightening a fist in Clarke’s hair, Lexa roughly pulled her away. Clarke looked alarmed, her blue eyes flashing in the darkness, and Lexa softened her hold. 

“Did I—?” Clarke began, but Lexa placed a finger on the Skygirl’s lips. 

“I want you,” Lexa assured. She pulled Clarke’s hair and kissed her hard. “ _Dison laik ain.” This one's mine. _She stood up, still holding the kiss and a fistful of blonde until Clarke whimpered for release. She let go and motioned to the wall farthest from the double doors. “Go there.”

Clarke obeyed. Lexa grabbed her leather belt from the pile of clothes, unthreaded her knife from it, then gestured at Clarke’s pants and said, “Take those off.”The Skygirl eyed the belt with obvious reluctance, and the corner of Lexa’s mouth twitched in satisfaction. 

“What’s that for?” Clarke asked.

Lexa smirked. “Does it scare you?”

The Skygirl’s reluctance became defiance. She saucily pulled off her pants.

“Those too.”

Off came the panties.

At first Lexa just stood there and admired the other woman. Clarke was fully naked now, completely natural, totally vulnerable. Lexa backed her up against the wall. Clarke instantly flinched from the cold of it.

“Tell me, Clarke, that you are mine.” 

Clarke’s eyes slid to the floor, poised with ‘ _not yet_ ’. “Lexa...” she began.

But Lexa grabbed her by the throat and startled her gaze back. “No. I don’t give my body lightly, Clarke. Say it or put your clothes back on.” Their eyes swam in each other, Lexa’s large and challenging and Clarke’s measured and restrained. _“Ai laik oyun, Clarke kom Skaikru. Ste yu ain?”_

Clarke’s eyes softened. She strained forward with a kiss, and as their lips yielded to each other she lifted her palm to Lexa’s heart. Then she sighed. 

“ _Ai laik oyun, Lexa_.”

Lexa’s hand dropped from Clarke’s throat and went to her heart in turn. “Good,” she whispered. Again their lips met in a gentle, tender kiss. Clarke relaxed against the stone, and Lexa’s hand trailed away from her heart, down her side. “Tell me what you want,” she said. 

“You, Lexa. I want you.”

Her fingers wandered down Clarke’s thigh. “How do you want me?”

Clarke's color rose, and she smiled in a way that suggested Lexa should know.

"Tell me, Clarke. Say it."

“I want you..." Clarke whispered, looking shyer than Lexa had ever seen her, "...inside.”

Lexa teased back up the inner thigh, higher...higher. There. She found Clarke beautifully wet. “Mmm...” Lexa murmured, moving back and forth along the length of wet silk. One finger pressed inside, and then another. “Like this?”

Soft moans escaped Clarke’s mouth. “Yes,” she said breathily.

Lexa kissed the Skygirl’s collar bone and moved her fingers at a slow, agonizing pace. She had to hold herself back from going too hard too fast; Lexa’s instinct was to be rough, and she didn’t want to wear Clarke out too quickly. This moment was too good to waste. She wanted it to last. 

So just as Clarke began to lose herself, Lexa stopped. She slid her fingers out and rubbed the silky ends of them together, her mouth pulling upward when the Skygirl whined in protest. “Not yet,” Lexa said. “You don't get to finish so quickly. First...I want you to take this and restrain me.” She offered Clarke the belt. “And then...I want you to make me scream.”

Clarke bit her bottom lip and stared. 

“Silence me, too. With a cloth.” Lexa's head tilted at the pile of clothes they’d discarded.

“How will you scream, if you’re silenced?”

Lexa only smiled. 

Clarke slipped past and retrieved one of the binding cloths they used to hold their breasts. She twisted it up. The two women exchanged one more kiss, and then the cloth was in Lexa’s mouth and was being tied around the back of her head. She watched Clarke’s eyes as she tied it—watched the shyness there become a sort of dark pleasure—and her heart did little flips.

After turning Lexa around, Clarke looped the belt around the wrists, pulled it tight, lifted Lexa’s arms above her head, and pushed her against the wall. A guttural sound escaped through the cloth as hot skin was forced against cold wall, and when Lexa instinctively jolted from it, Clarke pinned her back harder.“Stay,” she said with a playful, hissing edge, then she leaned in and kissed Lexa’s neck. 

One hand kept the belt tight above Lexa’s head, and the other made a teasing trail down Lexa’s breasts, along her hips, and through the hair between her legs. Lexa struggled a little to test the restraint, which made Clarke pull the belt tighter. _Good_.

Clarke slid a finger in. Lexa shuddered. Ecstasy. _Clarke._ Hers.

Clarke kissed the hollow of Lexa’s throat and slid another finger inside, which coaxed from the Commander a long, pleading whine. With her thumb Clarke made circles around Lexa’s clit, and with her other fingers she made slow, measured movements back and forth.

Lexa bit down on the cloth and squirmed against her restraints, entirely for the game of it. But when Clarke paused her fingers to try to keep tension in the belt, Lexa pulled her arms free in a fast act of rebellion. 

Clarke made a sharp sound of protest, pushed her fingers deeper, and nipped roughly at Lexa’s neck.

But Lexa was not distracted by the small display of punishment. Even as the waves of pleasure moved through her body, her liberated hands began to crawl all over the other woman. She found Clarke’s wetness and, without any sort of build-up, she slid right into her. Clarke’s hips pushed forward in want. She clumsily captured Lexa’s free arm and pinned the wrist back to the stone, but the grip was weak from her watered-down attention. Both of them paid more mind to where they reached into each others’ cores.

They fingered each other to a matched rhythm, going harder and faster as a silent communication bloomed between them. Lexa _wanted_ to let Clarke take the lead, she herself gagged and pressed to the wall as she was, but instinct quickened within her. Control. As they brought each other closer to orgasm, Lexa wrestled away the power. She jerked her pinned wrist free again, snatched the belt, whirled Clarke around, and slammed her to the wall. Clarke’s hand slipped free from the surprise of it, but Lexa’s did not; she pushed in deeper and the Skygirl gave an unchecked, lustful cry.

Immediately there came a loud rapping on the doors of the Grand Entrance. “ _Heda!_ ” said the voice of Titus. “Is everything okay?”

Wide eyes met wide eyes and both Clarke and Lexa clawed at the cloth-gag until it was free. 

“Y-yes, Titus,” Lexa said, trying to force composure into her voice. “Clarke and I...are...discussing the Mountain. We’ll be out when we’ve finished.” 

All fell quiet. Lexa stared at Clarke, both of them wearing a coy, nervous smile, and admired the heat-flushed beauty of her fair skin in the firelight. 

“Should we...stop?” Clarke asked, glancing at the door.

“No,” Lexa said. “But Titus _is_ listening. Will you come to my room?”

The two young women dressed themselves, smoothed out their clothes, and made their way into the hall. Straight-faced and with her head held high, Lexa breezed past Titus without so much as a glance. “You are dismissed for the night, Titus. We will meet in the morning.” He didn’t argue.

Down the hall the women traveled, with the two guards who had kept Titus company following at their heels. When the group reached Lexa’s door, she told them that she and Clarke were not to be disturbed. The guards took up their posts with a nod, and the two women disappeared into the warm, richly-decorated room beyond.

A fire was roaring in its grate and candles were lit on several tables. Succulent smells of meat and vegetable arose from a covered plate, and Lexa knew that something delicious was ready and waiting there. But something equally as delicious was ready and waiting beside her. She turned to Clarke, who was observing the room with a casual patience, and took her by the hand. 

“Come,” Lexa said. She pushed Clarke onto the bed, which was covered by a blanket made from thick tawny bear skins, and kissed her under the jaw. “ _Ai meizen Wanheda_ ,” she said. Clarke rolled her eyes and took Lexa by the shoulders, pulling her onto the bed and climbing on top of her. 

“I can’t believe you had Roan kidnap me,” Clarke whispered as she leaned down close to Lexa’s ear.

The Commander reached for her dagger, which had been re-sheathed to her belt after their previous antics, then drew Clarke’s lips into a kiss and quietly withdrew the knife behind her. Lexa held it off to the side and kissed the Skygirl harder. Then she moved. All it took was a quick upward thrust toward the center of the bed and Clarke was flipped on her back. Lexa put the knife to Clarke’s throat in the same sweeping movement, pressed the flat of it to that smooth, graceful neck, and grinned. “Would you rather it have been me?” she asked. Her thigh pressed between her companion’s legs.

Lexa felt Clarke’s heart reverberate through her forearm, which was balanced across the fluttering chest to hold the knife in place. The Skygirl’s face was surprised, but if there had been any fear it was more fleeting than Lexa could catch. Their eyes moved deeper into each other in that unstoppable way that true connection invites, Clarke’s surprise shivered into passion, and the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips. 

“Yes.” 

Leaning down to kiss her, Lexa dragged the knife carefully past their two throats, then tossed it off toward the fire. It clattered against the stone and she thought of her guards, but what could they do, after all? Shirts joined the knife, then pants joined the shirts, and soon she and Clarke were just as perfectly naked as they had been before. Lips found lips, limbs entwined with limbs, and fingers traced sensually along each others’ lines and curves.

“If you disappear again, I’ll be sure I’m the one that finds you,” Lexa murmured. Her hand danced along Clarke’s hip and dipped between her thighs, then artfully found its target. Both of the women whined. Clarke was dripping wet, and the feel of it had Lexa dizzy with bliss. 

Her fingers moved in a languid figure eight, teasing around Clarke’s clit, then her entrance, then back around her clit. Moans and sighs rose from the Skygirl’s mouth, and a dark grin stole upon the Commander’s features. “Tell me again, Clarke. _Ste yu ain_?”

With a bite to the lip and a reflection of that same dark smile, Clarke said, “ _Ai laik oyun, Heda_.”

“Good girl,” Lexa breathed. Her fingers gave their promised reward; two of them slid inside and her thumb took the clit. Clarke bucked against her and took her deeper, then reached up to hug Lexa close. Lexa moved her fingers faster and thrust her whole body into the motion. The two of them rocked together like a ship on rough waters. 

Clarke panted. Her walls tightened around Lexa’s hand.

Clarke’s climax came quickly and with rippled aftershocks. She gripped Lexa and cried out, then blocked her own mouth to stifle the sound. They held each other tightly as she shook, and shook again, and then wordlessly, when it was over, they breathed. Their chests drummed together with energy and their skin stuck together with sweat. The warmth of the fire reached out and enveloped them, and Lexa noticed that it was altogether too hot, but in a strangely euphoric way. Like they were two parts of molten steel being joined into one sword. 

Once they had cooled, Clarke’s arms slackened and she playfully pushed Lexa off of her. The Commander took her opportunity to escape, rolled off the side of the bed, and padded away to a chest at the foot of it. Lifting the heavy wooden lid, Lexa brushed her fingers over the contents—cold metal chains, soft pieces of leather, and smooth lengths of rope. Of the rope, Lexa chose an expertly-woven black piece that was the length of several bodies. She held it out and said, “Tie me to to the bed.”

Clarke took the rope and raised her eyebrows. “Do you do this often?” she asked, as Lexa slinked back onto the mattress.

“Somewhat. I do it alone. To myself.” 

“Why?”

“It’s a challenge.” She shrugged. “I like it.”

Clarke ran the rope through her fingers warily at first, as if it were a snake, but then she tugged on it and gave a playful smirk. “Come here then,” she said. Lexa offered her wrists and Clarke clumsily attempted to tie them.

“If I can escape, you’re in trouble.”

Clarke laughed. “That’s not fair. You can probably escape from anything.” She fumbled with the rope again and fixed the ends to the wooden bed frame. “Okay, Commander. Anything else?”

Lexa struggled half-heartedly to test the restraint. “Just hope I don’t escape.”

They exchanged sultry smiles and fell back into a kiss. Lexa tugged gently at Clarke’s bottom lip; Clarke growled and nipped back. Their tongues made subtle passes at each other and their energy began to climb.

One of Clarke’s hands rested on Lexa’s cheek, and the other teased up her thigh at the speed of molasses. 

With those fingers stirring Lexa’s imagination, it was easy to forget about the trials of the day. The Ceremony, the Ice Nation, the Mountain. Bound as she was right now, Lexa was powerless to resolve her peoples’ dramas and troubles. She was forced into the present moment. This single, only moment. She was captive to this moment of her and Clarke and their unity made physical. 

There was only Clarke. 

Clarke and her touch.

That touch, which was getting closer and closer to the part of Lexa that craved it most. She held her breath as the fingers found their destination. She whined. Clarke made a sound of satisfaction. Lexa lifted her hips, silently begging for more.

With the skill of an artist Clarke worked on her, shaped her, shifted with her body’s tides and listened to them change. They kept eye contact, broken only by interspersed kisses, and their souls bled together with every surge of emotion. Back and forth, up and down, tugging against the rope. Lexa lost herself. Warmth and love and lust filled her up entirely, and shocks of it chased Clarke’s every thrust. Ecstasy. Paradise. Adoration.

After several minutes Lexa clenched up and arched her back, which pulled the rope tight and made her wrists burn with a rapturous pain. She cried out loudly and blissful release coursed through her. Clarke held her and made sounds that echoed her own. 

Finally her body relaxed. She shut her eyes and let herself feel. Tied—willingly—surrendered. The unraveling of tension, the tight coil of composure and control flattening for a moment into fantasy. Lexa normally held her power with tight, ruthless fists, but here it was freed, yielded to Clarke, loaned to her. 

The Skygirl collapsed beside her, and after a few seconds of a loose embrace, she went for the rope and untied it. “I guess you can’t escape from everything,” she teased, then kissed Lexa’s cheek. 

Lexa snorted. “Only if I don’t want to.”

Arms and legs tangled together and they held each other close. Both exhaled in loud, slowing breaths. The fire cracked and popped, the candles cast soundless, dancing shadows, and their hearts purred and swelled with happy, matching rhythms.

The mattress was like a cloud, and Lexa was floating. Warm and floating in pure, liquid peace. 

Life really could be about more than just surviving. Clarke had taught her that. Together they could show their people that love could be a strength. That it wasn’t always weakness. Here, lying entwined, Lexa felt felt stronger than she ever had before. A new world bloomed in front of her, where she and Clarke could lead their people to a better life. 

She hugged Clarke tighter. “ _Ai laik oyun, Clarke._ ” 

Clarke leaned over to give her a long, lingering kiss. Then she gazed up at the ceiling and sighed. “I wish we could stop time.”

Lexa brushed aside a blonde strand of hair and kissed Clarke on the forehead. Love always felt like that, didn’t it? Bliss, and also sadness. There was always a knowledge that the moment would be lost, paired with the fierce desire to have it be eternal.

But nothing was eternal. Nothing could be. Lovers knew it in their hearts even when they tried not to.

“Time will stop when it is meant to stop,” said Lexa. “But for now...we’ll face it together. We fight together now, Clarke. For as long as time permits.”

Clarke cuddled up against her.

For as long as time permits. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Instagram to stay up-to-date with my writing! @brittfosterauthor
> 
> Thanks for reading <3  
> Comments and kudos make me happy


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